


Flyin' Solo

by lucruss23



Series: Grown-Up American Girls [1]
Category: American Girl Dolls - All Media Types, American Girls: Kit - Various Authors
Genre: (i'm jewish myself and i always loved her character), Also nobinary!Kit, F/F, Jewish!Ruthie, M/M, Multi, Some adult language, also also, this is the first work i've published in like eight years so be nice please and thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucruss23/pseuds/lucruss23
Summary: It's 1946, the end of the second world war. Kit Kittredge and their partner, Ruthie Smithens, survive day-to-day in their small New York apartment while Kit tries to get their big news break.





	1. Old Friends, New Faces

_ “Gooooooood morning, New York City! It’s the top of the seventh hour, and I’m sure all of you are rushing out the door to work, so I’d like to thank you for making us a part of your morning. I’m Marvin Kessler.” _ _   
_

_ “And I’m Vivian Jefferies!” _ _   
_

_ “And we’re here today to bring you the traffic, weather, and the latest news of the day. While the war in Europe may be over, many of our boys remain in Berlin to moneter reconstruction of the city. It’s a long way home-” _

“Kit, turn that off…” Ruthie groans quietly, rolling over and burying her face in Kit’s shoulder, “I wanna sleep a little more…”

“Mr. Kessler says it’s time to wake up.” Kit cracks a small grin as they rub their eyes, trying to wake themselves up out of sleep.

“To hell with Kessler. I was dreaming the most wonderful dream…” Ruthie was always ‘dreaming the most wonderful dream’ when something woke her up. She rarely ever got into detail, but Kit could imagine what it was; A simple life in a suburb somewhere, maybe in Florida or California. Ruthie always was a dreamer.   


“You can sleep a little longer.” Kit kisses her forehead before sitting up, running a hand through their messy hair, “Morning, Gracie.”

The old basset hound thumps her tail on the floor in response. Ruthie groans again and wraps her arms around Kit’s middle, “No. Stay.”

“I ain’t going anywhere!” 

“Aren’t.”

“Hey, I’m the writer.” They boop Ruthie’s nose, causing the girl to wrinkle her nose and giggle, “How’d you sleep? I know the mattress leaves… many things to be desired.”

“Certainly no Princess and the Pea mattress.” Ruthie sits up, yawning and scratching her head, “But yeah, I slept okay. You?”

“Nah, insomnia.” Kit stretches, wincing as they hear their back pop, “Ack, shit… I’ll probably end up crashing today.”

“I’ll go start a pot of coffee.” She climbs out of the bed, kissing Kit quickly before heading into the second room of the apartment, which acted as the kitchen/living room. 

It was a really small apartment, but it was the best they could afford. Kit’s friend Will enlisted in the Marines when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, so he let Kit and Ruthie take his apartment. He wasn’t expecting to come back to use it. And even if he did come back, “he’d be going back to Texas”. Kit sighs and rolls back onto the mattress, looking over at their bedside table; a pair of reading glasses, a glass of water with a smattering of heartburn tablets, and a small photo of Kit’s hero. Amelia Earhart. She had disappeared without a trace nine years ago, and Kit’s been holding out hope they would find her ever since. Amelia wouldn’t get lost. Amelia knew what she was doing, right? “Wherever you are…” Kit mumbles to the picture, “I hope you can be a little proud of me…” They sigh and sit up, grabbing their glasses and rubbing them clean on their undershirt. Somehow their glasses were always dirty.

“Have you heard from Stirling at all?” Ruthie calls from the kitchen, “Is he still doing that photography project in Berlin?”

“Yeah, last I heard.” Kit calls back, standing up and stretching, “He sent me a couple of photos, place looks fucked up.”

“Kit!”

“What? Oh don’t tell me you hate me swearing now.”

“Watch your fucking language.” Ruthie giggles, “No swearing around ladies.”

Kit grabs their pants and throws them on, quickly getting dressed. After the shirt and pants, the suspenders were usually the hardest part. They weren’t ever that flexible. So they went into the kitchen (barefoot, really cold), “Hey, can you help me here?”

“Well I’m kinda in the middle of coffee…” But Ruthie puts the pot down and goes to help Kit with the suspenders, “Do you need me to tie your tie too, you big baby?” She grins and kisses their cheek.

“Noooo.” Kit laughs, “Charlie taught me how to tie a tie before he shipped out.”

“Have you heard from Charlie at all?” Ruthie’s voice softens a little, “Is he…?”

“Yeah, he’s alright. He made it back to the States in one piece.” They sigh, “He’s in Chicago right now, I think. He needs a little break from… everybody.”

“Everybody? Even you?”

“I don’t think Charlie wants to deal with his kid… whatever I am.” They laugh quietly. “Kid Sister” didn’t really fit them much anymore.

“You should call him.” Ruthie finishes fastening the suspenders, “I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

“Yeah, well…” Kit sighs and pours Ruthie a cup of coffee, “How about you? You hear from anyone?” They go to pour themselves a cup, clearing their throat quietly.

Ruthie goes quiet, leaning against the table, “... Heard from my dad.”

“Oh yeah?” Kit takes a sip of their coffee, “I always liked Stan.”

“Yeah, he likes you too.” She smiles a little, pouring some cream into her coffee, “He and Mom have been worrying about me, since winter’s coming and all… I’m thinking I might go up and visit them, just to give Mom some peace of mind.”

“I can hold down the fort.” 

“... That’s the thing. I want you to come with me.”

“Back to Cincinnati?” They put their mug down, “Why? I mean, besides the parents.”

“Well... I was thinking, I wanted to tell them about us.” Kit almost falls over, “I-I mean, I think they already know! But I think I owe them an explanation as to why I haven’t found a husband yet.”

“‘Hi Mom and Dad, I’m a lesbian.’”

“Basically.” She laughs softly, “I know you’re nervous about going back, we don’t have to go see your mother if that’s what’s worrying you.”

“I’m pretty sure Old Margaret could track me down if she wanted.” Kit sighs, running a hand through their hair, “You know how she gets.”

“I know, I just-” There’s a knock on the door. Grace bumbles out of the bedroom and starts baying loudly. Ruthie takes a deep breath, “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Can you get the door while I clean this up?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kit puts their mug down and goes to the door, looking through the peephole. Two men. Both skinny, both tall. The one with the stone-grey eyes looks back at them, shifting nervously. “Holy shit…” They fling open the door, “Stirling Howard?!”

“Kit Kittredge!” He grins and puts his suitcase down, pulling them into a hug, “It’s good to see a familiar face.” He pulls back and gestures to a tall, dark-haired man holding a suitcase and a bundle of cloth behind him, “This is Fredrich, he’s a… friend. A friend I made in Germany.”

“Oh, well welcome to America!” Kit laughs, “Don’t mind the mess, we just woke up. Hey Ruthie!” They call back, “Stirling’s here!”

“What?!” Ruthie comes out of the kitchen, still in the middle of washing a mug, “Stirling!”

“Ruthie!”

“I thought you were in Berlin!” She comes over to hug him, getting some water on the floor, “Oh it’s so good to see you! And your friend, very handsome young man.” She shakes Fredrich’s hand.

“Oh, ah…” The man seems really shy and quiet, probably doesn’t know a ton of English, “Thank… Thank you, Miss Roo-Tee. Your home is lovely.”

“Thank you, Mr…”

“Fredrich.” Kit whispers   


“Thank you, Mr. Fredrich.” Ruthie smiles, “It’s not a palace, but it’s a home. Both of you come in, we were just having coffee.”

“Lemme get your bags.” Kit grabs Stirling’s suitcase and reaches for Fredrich’s bundle. The man pulls away quickly, holding the bundle to his chest, “Hey it’s okay. I just wanna help.”

“Fredrich’s a little shy.” Stirling takes his coat off, “Oof, chilly out there.”

“Yeah, it’s not much better in this dump.” Kit puts his suitcase down, “Must seem like paradise compared to Berlin.”

“You could say that.” Stirling takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose, “Very long boat ride to and from. Fredrich here got seasick.”

“I have never been on the ocean!” Fredrich defends himself, sitting down at the kitchen table, still cradling the bundle, “I have only seen it.”

“Fredrich’s an artist.” Stirling smiles, “He escaped Nazi persecution by going to Switzerland for a while before returning to Berlin.”

“Not just an artist.” The young man sighs, “I lost most of my family to that madman’s ideas…”

“Maybe some of them are still alive…” Stirling reaches across the table and takes his hand, “You never know.”

Kit shoots Ruthie a look, who responds with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile. “So… What’s in that bundle, huh?”

“Oh, um…” Stirling clears his throat, “We’ve been meaning to talk to you two about something.”

“Us?” Ruthie sets some coffee down in front of the men before sitting down, “Why, what’s up?”

Fredrich unwraps the bundle.

“Holy shit.” Kit whispers. It’s a baby. The thinnest, sickest looking baby they’ve ever seen. It couldn’t have been a year old yet, Kit didn’t know how it was even still alive, “Stirling? Where did you get a baby?”

“A nun approached me as me and Fredrich were leaving the city. She was trying to get these babies adopted, since the orphanage got blown to all hell. She was begging me, so I decided to take her…” He picks up the baby, rocking her a little, “We figured she needed a home, so…”

“So you decided to bring her here.” Ruthie’s voice is very small, kind of frail, “Oh my god, look at her…”

Kit takes a deep breath, “Stirling, can I talk to you for a sec.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He gets up and Kit pulls him into their bedroom, “Look, I-”

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” Kit’s doing their best to keep their voice down, but boy the universe was testing them, “Are you ACTUALLY out of your goddamn MIND-”

“Kit, I know you and Ruthie wanted to have kids-”

“Yeah, when we’re financially stable!” Kit starts pacing, wringing their hands, “Stirling, we can barely afford to live here, let alone support a child. A child that’s obviously sick and in need of care and love that I don’t know how to provide! Oh god I’m gonna end up just like Margaret, I’m gonna accidentally destroy that baby…”

“Hey, hey…” Stirling grabs their shoulder, “Relax… Me and Fredrich are gonna help you.”

“So what ARE you two?” They can’t stop their mouth from talking now, “You two fuck in Berlin or something?”

“As a matter of fact, we did. Yes. But that’s neither here nor there.” He sighs, “Just… give it a chance…? Please? I’m afraid she’ll die if she doesn’t get the proper care.”

“And what makes you think I can provide that?”

“I dunno. But I know Ruthie can.” Silence falls over the room, “... Please, Kit?”

“... Lemme go talk it out with her.” The two of them exit the room, Kit rubbing the back of their neck, “I… I dunno, Stirling, I’m not gonna be a good parent…”

“It’s only for a little while.” He sighs, “Just to get her back on the right track, y’know? She’s so small, and she has all the cards against her, and I-” They walk back into the kitchen, looking at Ruthie cradling and playing with the baby, “Well… She seems to know what to do.”

“Course she does, she’s wanted to be a mom since she could talk.” Kit sighs, “You like the baby?”

“I think she does.” Fredrich looks over and smiles, “The baby will be happy here, right Stirlink?”

“I think so.” He smiles a little. Kit snorts at his pronunciation. Stirling quietly kicks them in the shin, “Ruthie, I feel like I should apologize, just dumping all this responsibility on you.”

“Nonsense.” Ruthie looks up from cradling the baby, “I’ll do anything to help someone recover from whatever those monsters did.”

“Hate to break it to you, but ‘those monsters’ were us.” Kit leans against the sink, “We dropped the bombs.”

“I’m talking about the Nazis.” Ruthie’s voice suddenly grows serious, “I know what they did to people like me and Fredrich.” Fredrich noticeably lights up, “The Jewish people who are lucky enough to be out of their grasp need to help wherever they can.” She looks down at the baby, “And I don’t know if this little one’s Jewish or not or anything, but I’ll raise her and make sure she’s safe.” She takes a deep breath, “Kit, we have to help.”

“Honey, I’m not saying no.” Kit looks over at the baby. She’s so thin and frail, she looks like she hasn’t been fed… She has a bruise on her shoulder, her crying is gasping and ragged… She was like the babies Kit would see at the soup kitchen or the hobo jungle… “Alright. Okay, we’ll take her.” 

Fredrich sits up, smiling, “Good! Good, we are so glad!” He looks over to Stirling, “You were right, Stirlink. These are… good people.”

“Hey, Kit and Ruthie have been my friends since I was a kid. Kit helped me in my time of need, I know they’d help a baby.”

“Glad you see me as a charity.” But Kit’s smiling, taking the baby from Ruthie and cradling her. Her eyes are bright blue, just like theirs. “Hey, sweetheart…” They whisper quietly, “We’re here for you.”

“But where are we gonna put her?” Ruthie wipes her hands on her apron (that she just flung over her nightgown), “We only have one bedroom, and Mom always told me it’s unsafe to sleep with a baby in the bed.”

“Maybe me and Kit could build a crib!” Stirling grins.

“Great.” Kit mumbles, “You kiss one man and now suddenly you’re a regular Handy Man.”

“In more ways than one.” Ruthie grins, laughing.

“Hey, hey, not in front of the baby.” But Stirling’s laughing too, “I can learn, your dad taught me building basics.”

“Fair enough.” Kit hands the baby back to Ruthie, “C’mon, let’s go get the wood.”

“Now?”

“Sure. No time like the present.”


	2. Wood, Hammer, and Nails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i know the title kinda sucks. sorry

“So.” Kit and Stirling make their way down to the hardware store a couple blocks away, wrapped in their coats and other winterwear, “What’s it like in Berlin?”

“Bad.” Stirling shivers, pulling his coat around him tighter, “Really bad. I don’t think people realize the kind of destruction the Nazis were capable of.” He rifles in his pocket for a cigarette, “The place was a like a ghost town. Suicide rates spiking, people too proud to realize they had backed a madman… I couldn’t wait to get out of there.” He sighs, “Anyway, what’s it been like here? You and Ruthie okay?”

“Yeah, we’re holding on.” Kit smiles a little, “Ruthie’s working as a telephone operator, I’m in the Times mailroom.”

“High living.” Stirling grins.

“Oh shut it. We’re living penny by penny. Uncle Hendrick’s helping us pay for electricity and heat, but that’s about it. We bought everything else.”

“Hendrick?!” Stirling raises his eyebrows, “Uncle Hendrick, the Ogre of Cincinnati?”

“The very same. Turns out he was surprisingly… sympathetic, about me and Ruthie’s situation.” Kit didn’t want to expose their great-uncle’s secret. The thing that brought them together more than just blood.

“How dya mean?”

Secrets be damned. Kit lowers their voice, “Hendrick’s a homosexual too, Stirling. It was the reason he never married.” They look around, making sure they weren’t being listened to, “He’s been helping us ever since we left, on the condition we’d both have to work. I send him my pay stubs.”

“Wow…” Stirling purses his lips and nods, “And here I thought it was because he was so damn charming.”

“Yeah, no kidding. But hey, electricity.” Kit sighs, “Alright… do you know how to build a crib?”

“Why would I?” Stirling laughs, “Do I look like the kind of man who’s ever touched a hammer?” 

“Didn’t you help my dad build the treehouse in my backyard?” Kit gently shoves him, grinning, “He was asking about you in his most recent letter. Wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” They sigh, “I miss him…”   


“You haven’t seen him since you left home, right?” Stirling mumbles, cleaning his glasses on his scarf.

“Yeah. Anyway, c’mon. There’s a hardware store right around the corner.” They turn to the corner, “Hey listen, when we enter, can you talk to me like I’m a man?”

“Huh?” Stirling looks over at them, “Waddia mean?”

“I mean, can you talk to me like I’m the father of the baby. Talk about how my wife just had it, blah blah blah.”

“Oooh…” Stirling chuckles, “Yeah alright. You absolute stud.” Kit punches his shoulder, “Ow hey! Don’t make me tell the wife!”   


“Whatever.” They open the door to Deitz Hardware, walking in.

“Hey there, fellas!” A big, jovial man from behind the counter waves to them, “What can I do you for?”

“My friend here,” Stirling claps his hand on Kit’s shoulder, “Just came back from the front lines in Normandy. Just became a father too.” Kit smiles sheepishly as the man grins.

“Congratulations! Oh, and thank you for your service, I should say. How was it out there?”

Kit thinks back to the letters Charlie sent them from Normandy. The massacre on the beach, the absolute fear he and his company felt, the storming of the machine gun nests… “It’s rough out there.” They sigh, making their voice deeper, “Real rough, but I’m just glad to be home.”

“I’m sure you are!” The man nods, “I tried signing up myself, you know, but they turned me down. Flat feet. Curse of the family.” He chuckles, “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“Well, his wife just had a baby.” Stirling leans against the counter, looking over at the tools, “So we’re looking for supplies to build a suitable crib.”

“Ah! Well, you’ve come to the right place!” He slaps the counter lightly, grabbing a piece of paper and a stub of pencil, “Here’s what you’re gonna need to get: Two 4”x4”8” pine boards, two…”

It takes about an hour and a half, but eventually Kit and Stirling have all the wood and supplies they need to build a small crib for the baby. “What do we need in way of tools?” Stirling looks up from the cart the man gave them, carefully checking the wood for splinters. Mrs. Howard would be thrilled.

“Oh, just the standards. You’re gonna need a standard bit, a phillips head, ball-peen-”

“Drill bit, screwdriver, hammer.” Kit nods, going over to the tool rack, “What about a saw?”

“The planks come pre-cut, so you’re in luck. Oh! You two want some paints?” He gestures to the back wall, “Boy or girl? We’ve got some lovely colors in stock.”

“Girl…” Kit examines the wall closely, “But I dunno if we’re gonna go with anything pink. The wife doesn’t like the color.” That was a lie, Ruthie absolutely adored pink. But Kit was still really uneasy about the color.

“How about purple? A lavender’s always a nice choice for a newborn.” The man stands next to them, “Got one myself, actually. Little boy, two months. Name’s Caleb.” He pulls a small photograph out of his pocket, showing Kit. He’s a sweet little boy, reaching towards the camera.

“He’s cute!” Kit grins, “Gonna be real handsome.”

“Sure is!” He smiles as he puts the picture away, “Alright, I’ll get some lavender paint ready for you. Meet me back at the counter.”  
*** 

Finally,  _ finally _ , Kit and Stirling were walking back to the apartment, lugging the heavy cart up the stairs, “Christ this is fuckin’ heavy…” Stirling wheezes, leaning against the wall as he fishes in his pocket for his inhaler.

“We could’ve taken the elevator but you insisted on taking the stairs.” Kit wipes their forehead on their sleeve, “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

“Alright, alright.” They pull the cart along the hallway, Kit unlocking the door to the apartment.

“Comin’ in!”

“Welcome back!” Ruthie calls from the living room area. She and Fredrich were having tea, it seems, the little bundle still in Ruthie’s arms. She hasn’t let her go yet. “Whatcha got there?”

“Shit for a crib.” Kit shows her the tool belt they got, “Look at this, my very own tools! No more having to ask Dad!” They never had to ask Jack for tools but they were dreading the day when they would have to.

“Big day, big day!” Ruthie grins, “Stirling, you alright? You look a little red-”

“I’m okay.” He nods, waving his hand as he leans over on his knees, “Just catching my breath.”

“Careful, Stirlink.” Fredrich gets up to help him, “Your lungs are delicate.”

“Jesus, Howard, you didn’t tell us your boyfriend and your mother talked.” Kit grins, thumping Stirling on the back, “‘Don’t worry, lamby, we’ll get you lying down soon. Do you need some tea? Some Vapo-Rub? Do you need to be on bedrest for the next ten yea-’”

“Knock it off, Kit.” Ruthie gets up, “C’mon, we agreed to not make fun of Louise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They crack their neck, wincing a little, “Let’s start working on this crib so she can sleep tonight, eh?”


	3. Luck, both Ordinary and Extraordinary

They laid a bunch of newspapers down on the floor, the radio playing some quiz show. Kit and Stirling were both covered in wood shavings and lavender paint. “So… where did you say you found this kid again?”

“Me and Fredrich were on our way to the airport. Had my pass out and everything.”

“Pass?”

“Journalist pass.”

“Gotcha.” Kit nods, “Continue.”

“We were a few blocks away when we were stopped by this nun. Looked like she’d been through Hell and back, her whole habit was all torn and stained, it was awful. And she was begging people leaving the country to take one of the babies she had in her care, because they didn’t have enough resources to take care of them…” He sighs, shuddering at the memory, “They all looked so frail and frightened, we wanted to take them all. But she gave us one. A little girl from a Jewish family, she said. She was left in a secret attic, only one left in her family.”

“How’d the Nazis miss her?”

“I have no idea. Grace of God, unnaturally good luck, a miracle, nobody really knows. But she was in the attic when someone found her and gave her to the church. Then the church was bombed, but once again she survived.” Stirling shakes his head, standing up and pushing one of the boards into place, “She was really lucky the person who found her wasn’t, y’know… a collaborator or anything. They saw the little Star of David in her bundle and they saved her anyway.”

Kit’s silent for a while, sitting back and thinking. They remembered the day they saw all the footage the Allies got when they liberated those death camps. The news announcer’s grim voice reporting on the number of casualties, 6,000,000 or more, and the sound of Ruthie sobbing as she saw how frail and thin the children were. Like walking skeletons, ghosts still in their bodies. She hadn’t stopped crying until they got home. “Those were my people,” She had said, “And nobody stopped those monsters. Nobody cared!” She had wished she could help, she kept saying over and over how she wished she had known, she would’ve helped. And now was her chance. “... Do you still have the Star?”

Stirling nods, “Fredrich insisted we keep it. Said it would be important to her later in life.”

“Good.” They lower their voice, “Ruthie was… really distraught when we saw the reports from the camps. I mean she was inconsolable, I’ve never seen her like that before. I think this is really important to her.”

“I can only imagine.” He whispers, “There’s so many things the reporters don’t know. That the public doesn’t know. Experiments taking place on prisoners, thousands and thousands of bodies burned, whole family lines wiped off the face of the earth… If we can save one life, one small life, we…” He looks down at the crib, the sloppily painted flowers on the side, the little mobile Fredrich was trying to craft, “... I think we’re doing the right thing.”

“Stirling?” Ruthie walks into the room, cradling the little baby, “How do we feed her?”

“Hm?”

“What does she eat? Does she eat? We have milk in the fridge, but we don’t have any bottles or diapers or anything-”

“I can run to the store.” Kit gets up, “What do we need? Bottles, diapers, some pajamas maybe?”

“Pajamas, baby formula, I… I don’t know yet.”

“We’ll figure out something.” Kit kisses her forehead, “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

***

Saks was always a good place to go if you needed any and everything. Kit usually avoided department stores like the plague, but Ruthie always liked going in them. The endless aisles, the fluorescent lighting, the quiet music playing over some loudspeaker, it was… a very different environment. But right now Kit was on a mission. The little baby needed diapers, and clothes, and food. She needed a good life. And they were gonna do their best for her, no matter what. 

Right now they were looking at the list, trying to think of the cheapest ways to get some of these things. Reusable diapers might be the best way to go, but the very thought of that was just…. Gross. But they were a lot cheaper than the alternatives. A couple of glass bottles won’t be too expensive, hopefully. Oh God why were they shaking? What-

“Excuse me?” There’s a light tap on their shoulder, causing them to turn. A young woman in a worker’s uniform is standing there, “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

“U-Um… Yes, yes actually I do.” They clear their throat, “My wife just had a baby, we need to, um… stock up on supplies.”

“Oh how wonderful!” She claps her hands together, “Boy or girl?”

“Girl. She was a little earlier than we expected.” Kit laughs nervously, “We weren’t really prepared.”

“Of course, I understand.” She smiles, taking the list from Kit’s hands and reading it over, “My, your wife’s got lovely handwriting.”

“Yes, she does.” Kit nods, shuffling back and forth, “Mine just looks like chicken scratch.” The girl laughed and Kit’s stomach does a little flip-flop. If they weren’t so loyal to Ruthie…

“Alright, sir, follow me! I’ll show you where we keep these.” The two of them walk through the aisles, “Have you two decided on a name for her yet?”

“Hm?”

“For the baby.” She looks over, “Have you and your wife named your little girl yet?”

“Oh.” Crap they hadn’t thought of a name. How the hell did they not think of a name, “Well we’re not sure yet. Maybe Lily after her mother.”

“Lily’s a lovely name.” The shopgirl smiles, humming softly, “My sister’s name is Lily, you know!” They turn the corner, walking down one aisle with the baby supplies, “Here we are!” The music on the loudspeaker was some song by the Andrew Sisters, the low murmur of other customers… Kit can’t help but feel the nerves rising in them. The shopgirl was lovely, but this… this was almost too much. Too much…

_ Sometimes I wonder what my place in this world is meant to be _ Kit wonders as they stand in the checkout line, looking at the racks of magazines and newspapers,  _ When I was younger I thought the world would be different. I thought I would find my place easily. But now I feel like I’m drowning. What am I even drowning in? Can you drown if you never fell in at all? _ They sigh, rummaging for a cigarette in their pocket. A bent one, wonderful. They pop it between their lips, flicking their lighter open and lighting it.  _ Ruthie’s in the same situation too. She had everything planned and I took it away when we ran. She didn’t need to give up on her dreams to be with me, that’s not fair to her at all. She could be an actress in Hollywood right now. She could be making millions, have the whole world at her feet, but instead she’s living in a dinky old apartment with a grumpy washed-up queer. _

“Next in line, please.” Kit walks up to their place, putting the things in front of the cashier. She rings them up and pulls out the receipt, “That’s gonna be $35.67.”

“Jesus…” Kit mumbles, pulling a $50 out of their wallet. Their only $50, “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” The woman starts counting the change, “Change is $14.33.” She hands them their change, and their bag, “Best of luck with the baby.”

“Thanks.” Kit leaves, walking out into the cold. They shiver, pulling their coat tighter around them.

“S’cuse me?” They look down. A young woman’s sitting by the corner, shivering, “I-I hate to ask, but do you have a light?”

“Yeah, course.” Kit kneels down, helping the girl light her cigarette. Homeless, no doubt, judging by the holes in her clothes and the way she was sitting and shivering in the cold, “Nowhere to go?”

“H-H-Husband died in the war.” She takes a puff from her cigarette, “L-Lost everything. I-I don’t even have enough money for a hotel room…”

“How much is a stay in the hotel?” Kit’s trying to think of the cheapest hotel in the city. There were some pretty shady dives, but at least they’re warm.

“A-About ten dollars.” The girl sighs, “Ridiculous, isn’t it? M-My husband gambled everything away, and then he had to go and get his head blown o-off.”

“Yeah… Hey listen,” They pull the $14.33 out of their pocket, “Take this, go get yourself something to eat and a room somewhere cheap. Maybe see if you can get a job helping them clean some of the rooms, I’m sure they could use the help.” The girl starts to refuse, but they raise their hand, “Nope, I insist. You don’t deserve to freeze in the cold.”

“I-I… Thank you!” She hugs Kit tightly, almost knocking them over, “Thank you so much! Bless you!” She staggers up, clutching the money, “W-Where should I go?”

“There’s a place on 6th Avenue that rents rooms for $5 a night. Stayed there myself.” Kit smiles, “Go on, it’s okay.”

“Thank you- er, w-what’s your name?”

“... Kit. Kit Kittredge.”

“Thank you, Kit! Thank you!” And she skids off down the street, off in the direction of the hotel.


	4. Late City Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back. I'm sorry it's so short, but I promise I'm gonna continue to work on it.

It was later that night now. Stirling and Fredrich had left, gone to their own little apartment (what a coincidence, they lived in the same building). Kit sits at their desk, staring at the typewriter in front of them. They wrote for about an hour every night before bed, just to get their thoughts straight. Sometimes they write letters to nobody, leave them in the drawer of their desk. But they didn’t know what to write tonight. No idea at all…

“Hey.” Ruthie’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall, “You okay?”

“Huh?” Kit looks up, then nods, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just lost in thought.” They run their hand through their hair, “How’s the baby?”

“She likes the crib!” Ruthie grins, “Least I think she does. I lined it up with blankets and pillows, I think she’ll find it really comfy.” She walks into the room, sighing and sitting down on the bed, “Kit, I… thank you. Thank you for letting her stay.”

“I ain’t heartless, Ruthie.” They spin in their chair, smiling softly at her, “We gotta do what we can. And the little one needs a home, and we can provide one. What would I do, say no?” They look out the window, “I just… I have no idea what we’re gonna do. Obviously we’re gonna take care of her, but I don’t know _ how _.”

“When we go to Cincinnati, we can ask my mother.” Ruthie nods, “She always loved babies, she’ll be thrilled that-”

“How will she be thrilled? You ran away from home with me, you just ended up with a BABY in your lap, how- your mom hates me, Ruthie.”

“My mom doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t hate anybody.” Ruthie reaches across the gap, taking Kit’s hand, “My parents know you only have the best intentions for me, they’ve known you since you were a kid.”

“I know, I know.” They sigh, “I’m nervous, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry!” She squeezes their hand, “I know you’re nervous, but we can make it work. I promise we can make it work.”

Kit takes a deep breath, trying to organize the thoughts swimming around in their head, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” Ruthie rubs her thumb over Kit’s knuckles, trying to calm them down, “What’s going on?” Grace ambles into the room and plops down at Kit’s feet, drooling on their shoes.

“How much do your parents know about me and you?” Kit squeezes Ruthie’s hand, “I mean, truly know.”

Ruthie thinks back, trying to imagine what her parents not only know, but understand about the situation, “... Mom and Dad know that you’re a homosexual, Kit. I’m pretty sure my mom’s known since you were 11. They know we’re living together, and they know I’m still not married, so I think they’re putting two-and-two together.” She giggles, “It’s kind of funny to imagine them still thinking I’m going to settle down and find some nice soldier. I think at some point my dad thought me and Charlie were a thing.”

“CHARLIE?” Kit laughs, “Oh MAN, they wish! I mean, he’s a catch, sure, but they got the wrong sibling.”

“I know!” Ruthie grins, “They were so close!” Charlie Kittredge was a good man, one of the kindest Ruthie had ever known. Smart, funny, respectful, handsome… In her parents’ eyes, he was probably the perfect catch. Little did they know that Ruthie was head-over-heels for the other Kittredge sibling. Ever since that warm evening in the summer of 1940, when Kit had run away from home again after another argument with Mother, Ruthie and Kit had been so much more than just childhood best friends. They had managed to keep it a secret for a long time, ducking into janitors’ closets at school or simply just hanging out in Kit’s treehouse, but time ran out. It always did. Margaret had discovered a poem Kit had written and planned to give to Ruthie (it was a bad poem, Kit never had a way with prose). Kit came home to find their typewriter, their prized possession, smashed on the ground outside the house. That was 1944. Two years ago.

Kit had a new typewriter now, a birthday gift from Ruthie. In all honesty, it was a lot better than the original typewriter: The keys worked, the typebars didn’t stick, the carriage was a fresh shiny black and not covered in rust. Still, it never held the same sentimentality as the old grouchy-looking machine Kit grew up with. But then again, childhood was far behind them all. Everything had to be replaced eventually.

“Oh, hey.” Ruthie looks up from the magazine she was reading, “You got a letter today from some… Ah what was his name… Denmark. George Denmark.”

“George Denmark?” Kit looks up, “Isn’t he the editor for…”

“The Times, yeah. I dunno, maybe he read your letter to the editor about how they handled their coverage on the… disaster in Germany?”

“I haven’t gotten a letter FROM the editor since I was a kid.” They sit back in their chair, one foot on their desk, “Alright, I’ll take a look at it tomorrow. Did anything else happen while I was out?”

“Grace barked at the poor postman.” Ruthie giggles, “She’s still got quite a pair of pipes, the old girl.” 

Kit laughs, looking down under their desk at the old dog sleeping underneath, “Didja scare the mailman, lady? Why would you do that? You ain’t a guard dog anymore.” They shake their head, putting their cigarette out in the ashtray, “Alright, you should get some sleep. You’ve got an early shift, right?”

“Yup.” Ruthie stretches and sighs, “The joys of operating. C’mon, cuddle with me.”

“I dunno…”

“Kit.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Move over.” Kit plops onto the bed and rolls over, their nose smushed against the pillow, “How do you look so pretty even when you’re tired? S’not fair.”

“I thought you weren’t concerned with looking pretty.” Ruthie grins, “As I seem to recall, you rather hated that idea.” Kit rolls their eyes and looks away, pretending to ignore her. She huffs, “Honestly, sometimes I think you’ve gotten even more intolerable over the years.”

“Probably.” They chuckle quietly to themselves, their hand finding Ruthie’s, their fingers interlocking with hers, “C’mon. We should really be sleeping.”

“But there’s still so much left to talk about, baby…” Ruthie nuzzles into Kit’s shoulder, “Like what we’re going to name the kid…”

“Er, well…” Kit plays with Ruthie’s hair absentmindedly, “Is there anybody worthy of being named after?”

“What about ‘Eleanor’, for Roosevelt’s wife?” Kit wrinkles their nose, which makes Ruthie giggle a little, “Okay, fine. How about Amelia?” 

“Amelia’s a lovely name… But I wanna name her after someone we actually know as well. Someone who’s really made a difference for us.” Kit sighs, “Definitely not my mother.”

“No, definitely not.” Ruthie purses her lips, deep in thought, “... Oh!”

“Hm?”

“What about Aunt Millie? She was a wonderful person in your life! And Millie’s such a cute name.” Her eyes are shining, “And we don’t even have to name her Mildred, we can just name her Millie!”

“Millie… Millie Amelia Kittredge.” Kit smiles broadly, hugging Ruthie close and kissing her forehead, “I love it!”


End file.
